


Kill Will Vol. 1

by markymark261



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:06:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markymark261/pseuds/markymark261
Summary: In an alternate Universe where Season 6 finished differently, Willow killed Buffy. Now Buffy's back and she wants revenge, but to get to Willow she first has to get past the League Of Extraordinary Slayers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the characters in this story. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and its characters were created by Joss Whedon and other people at Mutant Enemy. The story structure is based on Quentin Tarentino's Kill Bill Vol. 1, and the public domain characters I'm using are ones also used by Alan Moore in The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen and Lost Girls. Apart from that, this is completely original.

"Revenge is a dish best served often" – Old Vengeance Demon proverb

**Prologue – Fang Fang I Hit The Ground**

Willow knelt down beside Buffy, took out her black handkerchief and delicately started wiping away the blood from the holes on the slayer's neck. Buffy, her battered expression a mixture of rage and betrayal, looked at Willow, unblinking.

"Poor Buffy, dying again," commiserated Willow. "Getting to be quite the expert, huh?" she added upbeatly.

Buffy didn't, couldn't, say anything. She just lay there inert, her broken body refusing to respond to any signals her brain was sending it.

"So, any last words?"

Buffy was silent except for her ragged breathing.

"Keeping silent, huh? Wasting your final minutes staring at me with those accusing eyes… I suppose you just think this is me being  _really_  sadistic, don't you? Summoning these four slayers to finish you off. But you're wrong, Buffy. Really you are. You see this is just me being  _mildly_  sadistic."

Willow gave Buffy a big smile.

"Anyway, can't hang around here any longer. Little Dawny's next on my list. Now that's where I get to be  _really_  sadistic."

Willow looked at her blood-soaked handkerchief and then looked at Buffy's bloodstained face and the tears that had just appeared in her eyes.

"Here, you better keep this," she said as she got up, dropping the handkerchief downwards.

Buffy saw the handkerchief dropping towards her face and then everything went black in every possible way.


	2. O2

**_Chapter One - 02_ **

Just over five months later, somewhere in Kansas, Buffy Summers drove the black van slowly past the mini ghouls, demons and witches roaming the streets on that Halloween night, and, double-checking that she'd got the address right, brought the van to a halt outside a nondescript house. Grabbing her broomstick and straightening her false nose, she stepped out into the cold night air, made her way to The Witch Slayer's front door and rang the doorbell.

After an agonizingly long wait, the door opened. A girl in her late teens stood there smiling, a stake in one hand. The moment that Buffy saw her the memories came flooding back. Memories of the girl's red stiletto boots, red with her blood, smacking repeatedly into Buffy. Whilst her mind was in the past, the rest of Buffy, clad in a witch's outfit, continued in auto-pilot in the present. "Trick or Treat?" she asked, as her hands grasped tightly on her broomstick.

"So, Buffy. I guess I better invite you in. Otherwise you'll be stuck out there forever."

Suddenly, as Buffy looked at the young, previously dead, slayer, she suddenly heard the opening bars of the theme tune to Ironside.

"Come in," said The Witch Slayer. Buffy followed her into the house, looking around at the old-fashioned decor.

"I better turn this down first," said The Witch Slayer and aimed a remote at the TV showing the Ironside rerun. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I'm here for revenge," admitted Buffy.

"Thought so," replied The Witch Slayer as she swung one of her stilettoed boots towards Buffy.

Buffy caught the boot in her hand. "Although, I was hoping we could try talking first," she said as she held the booted foot aloft in the air.

Her opponent swung her other leg in the air, over her first leg and towards Buffy's face. "These boots are made for talkin' "

Buffy effortlessly moved her head back to avoid the boot's arc, and caught the boot in her other hand. "You've been back less than half a year and already you're tossing out '60s pop culture quips. I'm impressed. So, ready to talk now? Face it – I'm a vampire and a Slayer, you're just a Slayer - you don't really stand a chance here."

The Witch Slayer lay face down on the ground, facing away from Buffy who was holding her by her boots. Slowly she put her palms against the ground and, gritting her teeth, started to push herself up. "Let me tell you this, Buffy The Vampire/Slayer, I've faced fear-wraiths, mechanoids , werebeasts and hungry dwarves. I beat them all - just like I'll beat you."

Supported by her hands, the Witch Slayer swung her legs towards and over her, flinging the attached Buffy through the glass coffee table in front of her. As Buffy looked up, shattered glass all around her, she found a stillettoed boot perched just on top of her chest. To be technical the stiletto was the sharpened end of a wooden stake and an inch closer and Buffy would be dust. There was only one thing Buffy could do.

"Hungry dwarves?" she said disbelievingly, starting to laugh.

The Witch Slayer's face fell. "They ate my family."

Buffy stopped laughing as realization dawned. "Oh no … I get it … They  _munch_ ed your  _kin_  . Eww."

The toe of the boot, not the stake heel, hit Buffy hard in the stomach.

"I was going to kill you quick, but now I'm going to make you suffer," the Witch Slayer explained, with the aid of punches, to Buffy. "So, still want to talk, Slayer. Anything left to say."

"Surrender, Dorothy," replied Buffy, blocking the latest punch and kicking Dorothy Gale across the room. Buffy's face morphed into its vampiric form as she started heading in for the kill.

And then the door opened.

"Is that the time?" said Dorothy, looking at the hourglass in the corner of the room.

"I might have known," groaned Buffy looking towards the door and the person who'd just walked in.

"Buffy, is that you?" asked Oz, putting down the comics magazine he'd been carrying.

"Hi, Oz." Buffy waved at Oz as she morphed her face back to its human form.

"Willow introduced us," explained Dorothy to Buffy. "She thought we'd go well together."

"So, what are you two Slayers doing?" Oz asked, surveying the wreckage of the room.

"Just one of those vengeance things, honey ... we'll move to the kitchen. I'll be back when Buffy's dead. Well, she's already dead – I mean really most sincerely dead."

"Okay, no rush," said Oz, grabbing the remote and turning up Ironside.

* * *

Buffy and Dorothy sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and shooting the breeze.

"So, you're a Witch Slayer. Shouldn't you kill Willow?"

Dorothy didn't reply, so Buffy changed the subject.

"So, Dorothy, they made a movie about you. That must be weird."

"Yeah, but at least it was a good movie."

"So, was it anything like your life?"

"Here and there. Of course I didn't have monsters as friends. There was an English academic Professor Marvel, he was my Watcher, and I had a witch friend called Glinda (a bit like your friend Willow), and this other friend Frank, a real goody goody, bit of a dreamer."

"What about Toto?"

"He was a bit bigger in real life. Hey, have you seen what I've got over there." Dorothy said with a smile and pointed to a big bucket of water in the corner.

"Hey, could I borrow it to throw over Willow? Or maybe I could drop a house on her?" Buffy mentally pondered Willow dying in numerous ways.

Dorothy moved to the bucket and picked it up.

"Ah, but the movie was wrong. She wasn't a witch, she was a vampire, and this isn't just water …"

"Holy water," yelled Buffy as Dorothy flung the bucket's contents towards her.

Buffy fell to the floor screaming, smoke pouring from her charred body. Oz came in to see what the noise was, and saw Buffy writhing on the floor. "I'm melting. I'm melting," he said sarcastically, waving his hands in the air, and then left.

Dorothy stood by the sink, looking down at Buffy, and finished her coffee.

Meanwhile, Buffy's hands grasped on to the electronic broomstick that Andrew (inspired by the Green Goblin) had made. She should have used it the moment Dorothy first opened the door, just blasted her with it, but her stupid soul had got in the way and now it was too late. Her survival instinct told her she needed to get out of here fast, so, aiming the broomstick as best she could at the kitchen window, she pressed the button on the side of it. The liquid oxygen powered broomstick sprang into life and launched through the window carrying Buffy out behind it along with a slipstream of broken glass. As Buffy's grasp on the broomstick weakened she dropped to the stone ground outside.

Dorothy washed her coffee cup and smiled. It wasn't quite what she'd been expecting, but she'd been planning on dragging Buffy into the garden anyway.

* * *

Buffy lay on the ground, trying to ignore all the messages her body was sending her. Looking around she spotted a large shed at the edge of the garden, illuminated by a couple of red lights. Maybe she could find something in it to help her fight Dorothy. Slowly she crawled her way towards the shed, not noticing the large arched opening on one side of it.

Dorothy looked down at Buffy, through the broken kitchen window, as Buffy slowly crawled towards the shed. Oz joined the bemused Dorothy to watch from the window.

"If she only had a brain," sighed Oz.

"If I only had a heart," laughed Dorothy, as she got up and headed outside for the final showdown.

* * *

Buffy got near to the shed when she saw something long in the grass - the broomstick. Grabbing hold of it she struggled the final few feet to the shed. After entering the large arched opening in its side, she pushed herself up to her feet, supported by the shed's wall. She'd wait there, in the warmth of the shed, and when Dorothy came for her, blast her with the broomstick.

Suddenly a big drop of rain fell on Buffy. At least it felt like rain, and at least it wasn't holy water. Maybe the shed roof needed fixing. She thought about the shed and that strange arched opening on the side of it and suddenly her mind was filled with a picture of Snoopy lying on the top of it. And then another drop of rain fell on her and, as she turned around to see herself looking up into two glowing red eyes, she realized that the rain was actually dog drool and that Toto was actually a ten-foot tall hell hound. Luckily, she still had the broomstick to make a quick getaway.

And then, before she knew it, Dorothy had lassoed her with some thick rope and the broomstick had fallen to the ground.

As she struggled to escape from the rope, Dorothy laughed. "Toto can't break that rope so you'll have no chance. Now just sit back and let your life flash before - hey wait, you must know the drill by now."

"Toto, feeding time," she added.

Buffy dropped to the ground as Toto's wide mouth opened towards her, revealing the large flames burning within him. Suddenly seeing her broomstick on the ground, she put her foot beneath it and kicked it up.

And then everything seemed like it was happening in slow-motion to Dorothy. She saw the broomstick circle upwards in the air, its arc of travel stopped by an eager Toto grabbing it in his mouth. As Buffy made as much distance as she could between herself and Toto, Toto ran back into his kennel to chew on his new  _bone_  . Of course, fire and liquid oxygen aren't the best combination and the next thing Dorothy saw was the kennel flying into the air propelled by the exploding Toto. As she watched the kennel rise ever higher in the skies, she forgot about the rope she was holding, wrapped around her hand. It therefore came as something of a shock when Buffy pulled on the rope, yanking Dorothy over and directly into the flight path of the kennel.

Just before the kennel collided with her, Dorothy wondered if she'd wake up and find out this was all a dream.

SPLAT!

Buffy removed the now-slack rope from herself and walked over to the boots sticking out from beneath the kennel. Removing the boots from Dorothy's feet, she walked towards the house. "Ding Dong, the bi -"

And then she saw Oz, stood there, looking at her, tears welling in his eyes.

"Sorry, Oz. If you want revenge I'll understand."

Oz looked up wistfully at the full moon in the night sky. "Never going to happen. Willow made me normal."

Buffy made her way out, back to the van, and crossed The Witch Slayer off her list. It was the second name she'd crossed off - The Vampire Slayer had been the first. Just The Mad Slayer and The Pirate Slayer to go. And then Willow.


	3. The Blood-Splattered Angel

_**Chapter Two - The Blood-Splattered Angel** _

Five months earlier, Detective Paul Stein's squad car had pulled to a stop outside 1630 Revello Drive. He'd climbed the porch steps, walked in through the door, and immediately seen red, that being the predominant color.

The crime scene photographer glanced over at him. "lt's a massacre," he said, his camera continuing to capture the scene, filled with the crimson that crime scenes there usually lacked, the majority of Sunnydale's murders being surprisingly bloodless. "Must be the work of maniacs... Though not many victims."

"Give me a figure."

"All this blood, but just two dead. Sisters. Just the one witness, a Mr. Xander Harris, but as you'll see," the photographer turned his lens towards the young man, focusing on the haunted look in his eyes, and the rest of his face which was blank, "he's not saying anything. Weird, huh?"

Stein walked over to Xander, sitting in the shadows, and pulled out a wallet. "You call us," he said, digging out a card, "when you're ready to..." Stein's words caught in his throat, as Xander looked up at him and Stein saw the extent of what had been done. "When you're ready," he said, amending his words, trying to hide his shock, as his mind struggled to comprehend what he'd just seen.

"Look at her," the photographer said, his camera focussing on the corpse before him, the blood around her spread by her once-flailing arms.

"She's a little blood-splattered angel," Stein said, looking at her distorted limbs. "Wings all broken."

"Her name's Buffy Summers."

"I know," Stein said. "It's not the first time we've met. Last time would have been this time last year, over at the junkyard."

"Didn't realise you knew her," said the photographer. "I'm sorry."

"No need to be. She was dead then, too."

* * *

Later, in that same week of her most recent death, Buffy Anne Summers had been resting in peace, lying in her coffin, as one of her killers had entered the graveyard for the second time that day, determined to finish the job properly.

Beneath her tricorn, Wendy Darling's long brown hair blew in the breeze, momentarily concealing her eyepatch. The only sound she could hear over that breeze, apart from the perfect tempo of her crocodile boots hitting the ground, was a whistling tune that filled the air, repeating and repeating.

"Why did I get Willow to bring you back?" she asked the source of both the noise and the breeze, a small winged figure that insisted on circling her head, making her feel dizzy. "Should have followed Dorothy's example and brought back dear Nana."

"But you knows you loves my fairy dust. Makes you fly, it does."

She swiped at the naked flying figure with her hook, but the fairy just dodged and the whistling noise got louder, so Wendy turned her attention back to her mission.

That was when she heard Willow's voice in her head, "Are you there yet?"

"I'm standing over her grave right now," she said both aloud and in her head.

"Sorry, but there's been a change in plan, no graveyard encounter just yet," Willow said. "You can come home for now."

"What?!"

"I owe her that. She needs to know what it's like, all that power, unable to resist."

"Let another vampire live? My Watcher, Captain James, would never have approved."

"Surely you, of all people, can turn a blind eye. Besides you live in my world now, and you wouldn't want to make me unhappy, would you, my darling Wendy?"

"I guess not," Wendy said, glad that Willow could only hear her words and not see her expression.

"Do you really have to guess?"

"No, I don't really have to guess."

"I know. Come on home, Darling."

"Right away," said Wendy, a scowl on her face.

"I love you very much," said Willow.

"I love you too," Wendy felt she had to answer, with some embarrassment, as her fairy companion made a sticking-her-finger-down-her-throat gesture.

"Byes," said Willow, on her way out from Wendy's mind.

"Thought that was funny, didn't you?" Wendy said to her smiling fairy companion. Then she turned her attention to the grave, shaking her hook at it. "Later," she said, then stormed off away from it, past two young men bickering in the darkness.

* * *

Andrew and Jonathan emerged, having stealthily avoided the whistling pirate lady. As soon as she was a safe distance away, they started arguing among themselves.

"We should have carried on to Mexico," said Andrew.

"So you keep saying," replied Jonathan. "I realise you have a bad feeling about this, but we won't be able to outrun Willow. Buffy is our last hope." His face fell as he realised that Andrew would now no doubt reply with 'There is another one', and quite frankly, after days of being on the run with Andrew, he couldn't take any more Star Wars-isms, but then Andrew surprised him.

"Sure we're just The Duo now, but do we have to be so dynamic?" Jonathan had just started to smile, when Andrew continued, "Just wait and see, Grand Moff Rosenburg is going to Darth Maul us and make us Qui-goners. Trust me, Sith happens."

"Not if we can get Buffy to kill her first," Jonathan argued.

"But Willow's already killed Buffy."

"Yes, but she'd have killed her magically, so there's our loophole."

"Maybe I could summon a demon," Andrew said, going off on a tangent. "And there are those weapons of Warren's back in the van. Maybe we stand a chance."

"Why don't I try summoning Buffy first," said Jonathan. "Trust me. I'll finally get to use this broken Urn of Osiris I picked up on eBay."

And so the magic ritual began.

* * *

Down beneath the Earth, Buffy's eyes opened after days of being closed and it was if she was opening them for the first time. So, this was what being a vampire felt like. Groovy. None of that goody-goody soul stuff holding her back from her true potential. She felt ever so thirsty, but not for water. She could go on a feeding spree with Spike. Or with Angel, once she'd sex-sucked the soul out of him. Maybe with both together - a carnage à trois. She could be the Biggest Bad, the Ultimate Slayer. She also wanted to kill people with dentures just because she was curious to see how that fang thing would work.

She started to dig her way up, her hands pulling her through the earth. Her broken limbs made it harder than the last time, but she bore it no mind, for above her lay Sunnydale, where she could track down her friends and acquaintances and so many other forms of blood receptacles. Despite the earth in her mouth, she licked her lips and smiled.

* * *

"Look!" Andrew said, as the hand came thrusting out of Buffy's grave. "It's working."

Jonathan nodded, though he had his mouth full, choking on a snake.

Another hand thrust out and then Buffy was pulling herself up out of the ground, her arms and legs broken at odd angles. A fanged smile filled her face. It was time for her first sacrifice, and fate had sent along two virgins.

Her legs weren't working, but she could bring them down to her level. Her least-broken arm grabbed hold of the wriggling snake, and yanked it hard, pulling it out of Jonathan's mouth and sending him sprawling to the ground. She then swung it at Andrew, knocking him over, and then, since he was the nearest of her two drinks, she pulled herself toward him.

Buffy climbed on top of his struggling body, ignoring his high-pitched protestations, and moved her mouth towards his neck. That was when something suddenly hit her; she wasn't sure what at first, and then everything looked different and she hated what she was doing. She turned round to look at Jonathan and then realised he'd done the same spell as Willow, he'd given her back her soul. Great, a vampire with a soul - it wasn't even that original.

"Please don't eat me," pleaded Andrew.

Just the thought now repulsed her, her stomach was eager but her soul would never forgive her. She pulled herself away from Andrew, and looked down at the fear in his face.

"You can have anything?" he said, offering her his car keys. "Take the van. It's got gadgets and gizmos aplenty."

She grabbed the keys from his hand in shock, as her eyes focused on the name on the gravestone behind him - Dawn Summers. She knew she had to get away from here, away from this tasty-looking duo, but her legs were not currently made for walking. She pushed herself off Andrew, then looked over at The Duo and snarled, desperate to remove their type O temptations. Fortunately they took the hint and quickly ran off into the night.

And so, Buffy began her arduous crawl to the black van, pulled herself in, and closed the door behind her. She looked around at the junk on display. It was as if they were preparing for a war.

She sat down and started straightening out her limbs, which made cracking sounds as she pushed the bones back into place. Finally, sweat pouring down her face, she fell asleep and dreamed a dream of her Sire.


End file.
